It Is Coming
by Sorceress Idhren
Summary: It was coming. The end was coming and she knew it. The end was coming and she wanted it to come. The end was better than what she felt right now.


**Disclaimer:** Nope, not mine. Although, I wouldn't mind if I owned a certain blonde Slytherin.

**Author Notes:** I wrote this so long ago it's not even funny. About 2 years or so. It's extremely depressing so I wouldn't suggest reading it if you're already considering committing suicide. Oh, and Kleenex is a must for this story. It's one-shot and just 1, 222 words. Short, I know.

She shifted anxiously in her sleep. Her mind tried desperately to ignore the growing pain in her head. But it wasn't possible. Her dark eyes, almost as dark as the blackness outside, drifted open. The pain hit her forcefully. It wasn't her head as she had thought later, when she was half asleep. It wasn't JUST her head. Every bone in her body seemed to burn, she tried to feel her skin but her numb hands only felt stings of pain.  
  
It was coming. The end was coming and she knew it. The end was coming and she wanted it to come. The end was better than what she felt right now.  
  
The pain inside her body growing harder to avoid, the pain inside her heart growing harder to avoid. She wanted him. She needed him. But he wasn't going to come. The end would find her there. All alone in her pain and sorrow. She had made friends with her loneliness long ago. After her family abandoned her, because of him. After he abandoned her, because of her. After she abandoned her, because of her own self. Her life; full of sacrifices and loneliness. Yet, she was here. Feeling the pain but not screaming. Feeling the loneliness but not begging for someone to come. Her pride was her enemy. Her own goddamn pride.  
  
And she screamed. Screamed loud and hard. She screamed not because of her pain, but because of her loneliness. The loneliness she had gained because of her fucking pride. She screamed because of her pride.  
  
And she cried. She cried because of the unbearable pain. The unbearable loneliness and life she had lived for so many years. She cried because of the end that was coming and she wanted it to come. The end that was so close. The end that had almost had her.  
  
And she heard it. She felt it. The soft change in the wind every time someone opened the door. The soft feeling of happiness and the warm hug her heart was given every time someone was reminded of her.  
  
"Hello.", a voice said. It was feminine. That meant it wasn't him. That meant the end was coming and it wouldn't find him by her side.  
  
She tried to look at the guest. Her heart jumping from joy. Someone had visited her in the middle of the night. That meant that it was either the end or someone who cared about her.  
  
"Here, let me help you.", the voice told her again.  
  
She obeyed. Her body was numb and pained. She couldn't quite move. The Voice helped her up; her hands soft and warm, yet strong. The Voice was young. She sat in her bed and looked outside the window after two days of illness. She looked at the Voice. It was dark. Her hurt eyes couldn't make the face of the Voice. Yet, she saw that she was tall and her eyes glowed in the deep darkness of the night.  
  
"Thank you.", she said to the Voice.  
  
"You're welcome.", the Voice answered back.  
  
And they stood like this. Not talking. Just silence and darkness. The Voice's eyes glowing in the night. Her heart jumping from joy. Her body dying of pain. And yet, her mind was working. Who is the Voice? I don't need to know. He hasn't come. He's not coming. I know.  
  
She took a deep breath. "Why did you come?"  
  
The Voice looked at her. Bright eyes glowing. She didn't answer.  
  
And they talked. And talked. And talked. Until the morning came. And they stopped. She finally saw the face of the Voice. It was HER. One of the people who abandoned her. But she came back. She found herself and came back.  
  
"You came back.", she said out loud to the Voice.  
  
"Apparently.", the Voice answered her. Pure sarcasm in her voice. It reminded her so much of him.  
"Why?", she asked the Voice once again.  
  
"I missed you.", she said simply and shrugged.  
  
Suddenly, all the pain and loneliness she had inside her turned to anger. Anger because she was abandoned by the people she loved and trusted. Abandoned by them, abandoned by him, abandoned by her. How dare they? How dare they abandon me?  
  
And she shouted. She shouted because of loneliness that was bottled up inside her. She shouted because of the anger she felt.  
  
But the Voice stayed calm. Just like him. Calm in the most difficult circumstances. Calm when everything you've succeeded is falling apart.  
  
"Why? Why didn't you come sooner? Why?", she said through her sobs.  
  
The Voice looked at her steadily. Her bright eyes glowing once again. Her bright eyes that reminded her so much of him. Suddenly the Voice moved closer to her. She hugged her tightly and let her cry. Cry on her shoulder. The Voice did what the Voice should have done so many years ago. So many years.  
  
And the Voice cried as well. But not because of anger, but because of exasperation. Because of what they had been through. Because of what she could have done but didn't. But she came back. She came back to do all those things she should have done back then. And here she was, hugging the older woman. Letting her cry like a baby on her shoulder.  
  
The older woman felt a sting of pain in her heart. Then another. Her breath caught in her lungs. Her blood frozen in place. She lay down. Her eyes closed. Her breath too small to be heard.  
  
The Voice looked at her terrified. What was happening to her?  
  
"I'm going to get some water.", she said quickly and got up.  
  
The older woman caught her hand. "Wait.", she said in a small, barely hearable voice, "I love you. I love him. I love them. Please tell them."  
  
The Voice stared at her blankly. Why was she saying those things to her. Why was she saying those things now? They had plenty of time to do things, to say things. But she just nodded at squeezed her hand slightly. "I love you too. He loves you too. And they love you as well.", she said quietly. The older woman smiled, a smile that reached her eyes and made them shine. A smile that made her seem the most beautiful thing in the world. She smiled after many years.  
  
When she returned the older woman was lying on the bed... unmoving. Her eyes closed. Her face pale. On her lips the gorgeous smile she had a few minutes ago.  
  
And the Voice understood. And she cried. He cried. They cried.  
  
"This time last morning Ginevra Malfoy-Weasly, the famous writer of the best selling novel The Sky is Blue, passed away. Next to her was her daughter, her ex-husband and her family; Victoria Malfoy, Draco Malfoy and the Weasly family... "  
  
Victoria put down the newspaper. Her eyes tainted with tears.  
  
"We love you too.", she said.


End file.
